


Making Music

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Cover Art, Digital Art, Guitars, M/M, Musical Instruments, Musicians, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6283795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and an acoustic guitar</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Music

[ ](http://s1368.photobucket.com/user/paulchen2/media/MAKINGMUSIC_zpsorvjxvpo.jpg.html)

Paul sat alone in the living room, head bent over the sleek body of an acoustic guitar, fingers picking idly at the strings in an attempt to wring something workable and beautiful from the instrument. He could feel the sleekness of it against his thighs, where his shorts had ridden up to expose a little more skin than normal, and the heat of the day felt oppressive against him, humid air seeming to crowd in upon him and distract him from his self-imposed task of indulging in what should have been a relaxing hobby.

Paul sighed, and rested his palm against the instrument, muting the vibrations of the bronze-wound wires for a while, before he began plucking again, left hand moving through familar diminished chords, into major, and shifting into minor sevenths. Not a single note or chord of what he created sounded quite right to him, or at least wholly so; some of it proved melodic to his ears, yet parts of it were oddly jarring and unsatisfactorily discordant. He cursed when his fingers plucked out a bum note upon the strings and he growled softly, stilled the strings with the flat of his hand again, before he began plucking, started over anew with his tune. 

Paul could hear, through the open window of the flat he shared with Richard, the sounds of the traffic moving slowly below, and the hooting **_blam_** of a car horn blared impatiently over the noise; on occasion he could even hear the whirring hiss of a passing tram, and the odd snatch of laughter, in amongst excited, joyful shouts. Berlin sounded alive and vibrant and vital. He listened more to the outside world then, idly allowing his fingers to pick out their own tune, to find their own way across strings and fretboard alike. Paul's eyes partially closed as the music came to him, and seemed to be channeled through him from he knew not where. 

He then heard the shuffling pad-pad-pad of Richard coming closer, undoubtedly drawn to the living room from where he'd been laying down tracks in their shared music room; Paul cast his gaze and a welcoming smile at the door when Richard peeped in, almost hesitant as though fearful of disturbing Paul or becoming an inadvertant distraction. Paul once again muted his instrument, with the flat of his hand and his grin grew wider. Richard looked as heat weary as Paul felt then, forehead slightly damp and his hair in artful disarray; his eyes were sleepy and heavy-lidded, and a cigarette dangled from the corner of Richard's lips. He looked almost to have been napping, instead of working and Paul wondered then if he'd inadvertently caught Richard out in the act, body giving him away when words would have offered a swift and guilty denial. 

"I thought you were reading," Richard said, as he winnowed into the room, deeming it safe by Paul's welcoming smile and by the fact that he'd stopped playing upon his appearance. 

"I was," Paul said, even as Richard padded across the room, bare feet leaving thumps in his wake. "But I stopped." 

"So I see," Richard said, as he laid one foot flat against the cushions of the sofa and hoisted himself up and behind Paul. "Or rather heard."

Paul laughed softly, even as Richard settled behind him, legs forming a bracketing, comforting vee around him; Richard trensferred his cigarette to the other corner of his mouth, before he rested his chin languidly against Paul's shoulder. Despite the discomfort of the humid air, Paul still leant back into Richard's warmth, inhaling the scents that made up his lover, familiar and comforting and homely. He sighed and closed his eyes, as Richard's arms slid around his waist and laid his hands atop Paul's across the body of the guitar, warm and slightly damp with sweat.

"Having difficulty, darling?" Richard murmured agianst him, voice vibrating against Paul's back from where it transmitted itself to him from Richard's chest pressed tightly against him. "I heard swearing."

"It's not flowing properly, today. Too distracted," Paul murmured. "Even more so, now, but at least you're a nicer distraction."

Richard chuckled and removed his cigarette from his mouth long enough to press a nuzzling kiss against Paul's neck. Paul hummed out a note of enjoyment at that, and relaxed still further against Richard's solid body. 

"Play for me, Paulchen," Richard murmured. "Let's see if I can help a little."

Paul hummed again and lifted his head to bend it over the guitar again; Richard's heated presence behind him helped him to focus instead of distract, and his fingers danced through the chords he'd been struggling with before. Richard placed his hands over Paul's again, and moved Paul's fingers into new configurations, new chordshapes, turning a minor seventh into a straight minor, and an augmented into a major. He even added a diminished chord or two in places where Paul hadn't thought to put one, alongside a few minor chords. Paul smiled and hummed quietly along with the new music they were making, fingers working together against rosewood and basswood.

"There. Much better," Richard murmured, words slightly muffled around the stub of his cigarette. 

"Hmm," Paul returned, as he rested back against the solid curve of Richard's chest behind him. 

He wriggled back, and felt, as well as heard, the sharp intake of breath as his butt ground up against Richard's groin. Richard took his cigarette stub from his mouth and ground it out into the ashtray nearby, before sliding both arms around Paul's waist, mouth leaving soft kisses against Paul's sweat-damp neck. Paul moaned slightly, eyes closing, head lolling so that Richard could get to him more easily and he felt the soft scrape of Richard's teeth against his skin as the other man left small bites and nips against Paul's throat. Paul sighed as Richard's mouth finally stilled in one place, lips pulling a bruise from Paul's skin in an obvious show of claiming, of showing the world that Paul belonged to someone and was loved, desired, wanted. Paul moaned louder, hips arching up and pressing against the back of the guitar, cock stirring into life at the feel of his lover's lips sucking at his skin and the odd rumbling contented purrs that Richard made whilst doing so.

Richard's hand slid down from Paul's soft abdomen and pressed against Paul's groin, fingers rubbing gently against Paul's partial erection until he was fully hard and squirming against Richard's palm. Paul didn't protest when Richard took the guitar and set it gently aside, mouth still pulling bruises from Paul's neck; the guitar made a musical clang as the wood met the floor and stayed, propped against the sofa as Richard rubbed harder at Paul's erection. Paul whined, an embarrassing noise in the otherwise silence of their living room, a pleading noise that spoke of how much he wanted Richard then, of how much Richard was turning him on. Paul's hips pessed back against his lover; he felt the hard line of Richard's very obvious erection pressing against his butt and Paul whined again, wanting, needing Richard inside him, so much so it was like a physical pain. Richard made an interested noise against him, as he caught the heavy scent of Paul's growing arousal and he pressed his chest up against Paul's back, even as he drew away from Paul's throat at last.

"Bedroom, love," he murmured. "Gonna fuck you." 

Paul whined again and all but bolted up from the sofa, Richard laughingly rising up from the soft cushions in his wake, to follow him into the bedroom. Paul closed the curtains hurriedly, in an attempt to give them an extra bit of privacy, and when he turned round it was to see that Richard had already pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, erection an obvious bulge in his trousers now. Paul's fingers made short fumbling work of taking his own t-shirt off, yanking his shorts down in an unceremoniously hasty movement, glad for the fact that he hadn't bothered with underwear that day. His cock sprang free and curled up towards his abdomen, and Richard made an amused huffing laugh at that, eyebrow raised as though in silent admonition of his lover going commando. Paul raised one eyebrow back at him and made a show of fondling himself, hand moving slowly over his length as though to demonstrate as to what he wanted Richard to do. Richard's expression turned dark and hungry, eyes hooded with his lust as he fumbled the lube from the bedside cabinet. 

Paul settled on the bed, chest pressed against cool sheets, and he felt the bed moving beneath Richard's weight when the other man climbed onto it. Paul waited, and heard the sound of Richard uncapping the lube; Paul was still touching himself, hand moving rapidly over his own cock even as he felt the first press and burn of the first intrusion of Richard's finger. Paul cried out and his hand stilled momentarily upon his cock, as Richard began stroking his finegr deep inside him, stretching him, caressing him, soon adding a second finger when Richard was confident that he could take it. Paul rocked back against Richard's hand every time that his lover pulled away, hips snapping forward into the circle of his own fingers when Richard pushed in again, aroused noises dropping unheeded from between Paul's lips as he did so. 

Richard swore gently behind him, free hand reaching round to wrap around Paul's own, fingers soon lacing together to stroke at Paul's flesh. Paul cried out again, pleading, begging, asking Richard to take him, to fuck him, to just love him already. Richard listened , for he drew his hand away finally, and Paul could hear him preparing himself behind him, heard the soft slick slide of condom over cock and the slicker slide of lube across that and then Richard was upon him, guiding himself slowly inside Paul.

Paul cried out again, arousal clear in his tone when Richard was finally fully sheathed inside him, breath hot and blasting against Paul's shoulder. Richard rolled his hips experimentally against Paul's, as he stroked his hands in an open, tender caress against Paul's sides and hips.

"All right, babe?" Richard asked, when Paul fell silent, pleasure robbing him of all speech when Richard continued slowly rocking into him.

"Yeah," Paul managed to pant out. "Fuck yeah." 

Richard's laugh, when it came, was low and rumbling and Paul felt his lover's movements grow stronger, more assured, hips rolling against hips as Richard thrust harder and deeper into him. Paul's cries were nonsensical, garbled encouragement for Richard to go harder, deeper, faster, and he was rewarded by his lover doing so, still joined hands soon stroking against Paul's aching erection again. Paul lost himself to Richard's hand and Richard's cock, trapped between twin pleasures and he came, climax racing through him, ripped from his body by Richard and he released across their joined fingers, across his abdomen and chest, across the sheets beneath them, Richard's name a drawn out cry of pleasure across his lips. Paul felt his lover's body stutter against him and Richard's hips thrust deeper, harder against him, erratically riding out his own release when it hit, Paul's name a garbled mess against Paul's shoulder. 

Paul flopped wearily against the bed when it was over, sated, drained, shaking from the intensity of it all, and Richard, when Paul glaced at his lover, looked no better. Richard, though he'd drawn away, was laying half across Paul, trapping him against sweaty, messy sheets and Paul made a small noise of complaint about the discomfort . Richard moved and Paul snuggled up against him, glad for the cleaner patch of sheets beneath him. Richard stole a lazy, deep kiss from Paul, open mouthed and slow, tongues sliding slickly together in languid stripes. They did little more than hold each other for a while, and kiss, Richard's hands a heavy weight against Paul's butt, fingers massaging against him pleasurably. 

Paul finally felt interest returning, stirring his cock into interested, partially hard life again. He wriggled closer, pressed his interest against Richard's thigh, and Richard made an interested moan into the kiss, rolling Paul onto his back and settling atop him again. Their love-making that time was as intense as the first, yet slower, more tender, and when Paul came, it still was with Richard's name upon his lips, gazes locked as Richard followed him into release a few moments later. 

Paul shared a shuddering, shaking breath with Richard, followed by an equally shaky smile; Paul reached up and rested one hand tenderly upon Richard's cheek. The other man leant into the contact, and smiled, eyes drooping closed momentarily, before he turned his head and pressed kisses against Paul's sensitive palm. Paul smiled, even as Richard drew away to lay beside him. Neither man spoke; instead, Paul wrapped himself around Richard and felt his lover's hands against his back, his lover's lips against his own and his lover's body, warm and relaxed, beside him.


End file.
